A letter from my daughter’s teacher came home from school Friday – with my son.  It’s never a good thing when a sibling is given a note to bring home.  Teachers know that the ‘rival’ sibling will always make sure Mom gets the letter – so the offending sibling gets what’s coming.  

Standing pensively by my side, Lara watched as I opened the envelope and read its contents.  Her eyes were fixed on my face – or maybe on the door behind me.  It seems that Lara forged my signature on a recent test.  At first she denied it – but then she admitted it to her teacher. 

Turning the page, I wondered how bad a failing grade was on the exam attached to the letter.  Lara was visibly upset with tears streaming down her face.     

“I’m sorry Mom, I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

Her words shocked me.

“Upset?! You got an eighty-eight on the test,” I countered.  “Why would you think I’d be upset?  This is a great grade!” 

“You’re always telling us we can do better,” she answered, lowering her head. 

She was right.  I do tell her and her brother that they can do better.  That is, when they bring home 70’s.  And that is because I know they can do better.  Like any other mother, I want the best for them.  But I never intended to cause her such stress. I felt like a monster.  

I thought back to my childhood when I failed a spelling test in the third grade.  I was terrified of what my parents would do when my older sister brought them the test that afternoon.  I remember standing by my teacher’s desk during break.  In what I thought was a brilliant move, I grabbed a tissue off her desk and shuffled my test under her desk blotter.  No surprise, I got caught.  But the fear was paralyzing and now my daughter was experiencing that fear.     

Taking a moment to compose my thoughts I examined ‘my signature’ at the top of the page.   A part of me wanted to lock up my checkbook.  Her forgery was pretty darn good.    

Holding up the test I said, “Lara, I’m proud of this – well, not you forging my signature but your grade.  I’m proud of you and if this is your best – that’s okay with me.  Now you signing my name on the test is another issue.  But I’m glad you did it.”

Lara was confused, yet relieved, by my statement.

Chuckling I continued, “You realize you should have waited till you got a 30 or something before you tried something stupid like forging my name.  Now your teacher is going to be examining these signatures like a hawk.  You blew your shot.” 

I smiled, she smiled.  And I’m hoping we both learned valuable lessons.

I hope Lara will never again feel stressed or fearful over tests grades and that she will always try her best. And what I realize now is that I need to let Lara do her best – and accept what that ‘best’ is.